Nightmares Always Come True
by Flower's Dying Angel
Summary: There's a reason Katniss never wanted kids. She didn't want to lose them to the Games. Get rid of the Games, and everything is fine, right? Wrong. Snow's great-grandson has allowed the Games to return. May the odds be EVER in Flower and Alek(Katniss's children)'s favor. Rating for cursing. Switches between Alek and Flower.


Nightmares Always Come True

Flower Mellark

Chapter One: I Know All

Mother tucked my long curls behind my ears. We never bothered brushing them anymore, knowing they'd just get tangled again. It was a waste, like everything else. Like her and Father stopping the Games when they just came back. Like her having two children. Everything was a waste now. Nothing would work out. The games returned, and the leaders are out for revenge. No one is safe, especially me. Especially Alek. We are both doomed to go into the games like our parents did, and to die for revenge. I have known this since I was ten, since the Games returned. I haven't been Reaped yet, but Mother, Father, and I know that it is because they want me to be in the Games at the same time as Alek, most likely even force me to murder my own brother. Then have me killed off. I'd make sure he lived first, then murder myself to allow him to win.

We do the hunting, Alek and I. We provide the food, for Mother has grown weak since the return of the Games and Papa has to work in the mines.

She- Mother, that is- has not been the same. I miss the mother I knew and loved, the one that would talk about old days and get caught up in her hunting days. I miss the mother that ate more than a bite of bread.

I begin to head out, but Father's voice calling my name draws me back into the house. "What do you think you're doing, my Flower?" He asked.

"To hunt, Papa," I answer, glancing at my mother for a quick second, then back at him. "We need meat."

"Not tonight, Flower. The reaping is tomorrow. You know better. Get in bed."

"But-"

"Bed!"

I huff, stomping to my room, frustrated that Father would not let me hunt the night before Reaping. He knows it calms me, soothes me. But he has no sympathy tonight for some reason.

I lay in bed, unable to sleep. I know I am not alone; I am fifteen, Alek thirteen. It is the first year our reaping falls together.

* * *

I must've dozed off at some time; I am awaken by soft, familiar taps on my window. I open it to find Finnick, the man proud to be his father's son.

"Hey," the thirty year old told me softly.

"Pedophile," I respond light-heartedly, playfully.

He chuckles at my remark and pulled me into a light, gentle hug. "How are you, Flower?"

"Papa won't let me hunt. He let me play on a graveyard anytime I wanted, but when it comes to hunting, he gives me certain times when I can't and certain times when I'm allowed to."

"Well, Flower, you gotta listen to 'Papa'. At least you have one," he scowled.

I just shake my head. "Sorry, Finnick, I forgot..."

"Well, anyways, let's go."

"Go where?"

"Hunting, silly Poppy!"

"It's Flower," I told him, and it was my turn to scowl.

He chuckled softly, and we left to the woods.

"Do you ever wonder about what life was like before the games started? Like, at all?"

"Of course. Who wouldn't?"

"The people damning us to this fate."

"Well, that's true."

* * *

We stayed out longer than expected; the sun had long ago come up, and everyone was getting ready for the Reaping.

"Where the hell have you been?" Father demanded when I reached home. In triumph, I held up my deer, a rather plump one.

"Flower Primrose Mellark!" He yelled. "I told you not to go hunting last night and you go behind my back and do it anyways?!"

I wince at his tone, always one to cry at harsh sounds. "Y-yes." I muttered, wiping my eyes before a tear even threatens to fall.

He must've noticed I was on the verge of tears. "You should go get ready," he murmured gently, hugging me and stroking my hair.

I nod and he releases me. I was, brush my tangled mess into a braid, flop it over my shoulder, and dress into a light blue dress, glancing at my neatly dressed brother with his long, blond ponytail. I laugh a little, because, honestly, boys shouldn't have long hair. I've always threatened to cut his hair off in his sleep.

"Ready, Flower?" He asked with a smirk.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, you stupid ferret!"

"Ferret?" He asked, tilting his head a little.

"If you read _half _as much as I do, you'd understand you stupid Pureblood!"

He looked further confused, causing me to laugh hard.

Mother rolled her eyes, and Papa ushered us forward, telling us we'd all be late if we didn't hurry. Even though no one wanted to be there, it's better to go than to not to.

I knew it. Everything that I predicted had happened. The male tribute was Alek Mellark. The female tribute was Flower Mellark.

Fuck.

* * *

**_A/N: Anybody understand what Alek did not? ;)_**

**_First story, Please review!_**

**_I accept criticism, I'm not one to bitch about it. (did I spell criticism right? *sighs* I suck at spelling!)_**


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